The Working Girls of New York
by Antique Orange
Summary: Elisabeth and Grace work in a factory in the year 1899 when all the workers of New York are getting fed up with their conditions. Together they take part in a movement that changes history, and their lives too. Follows the Newsies strike w a twist.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Waking Up

The first rays of sunlight coming in through the dirt-streaked windows wasn't the first thing that met a newsies' eyes in the morning. Generally speaking, the wrinkled, stern face of Kloppman, the owner of the Manhattan lodging house, blocked the feeble rays out as he leaned over each bunk in turn. Even he would admit that it wasn't his favorite activity, waking up forty-six boys of various ages ranging from ten to seventeen, all of whom worked too hard and slept too little; but it had to be done if the city was going to hear the news each day.

"Snipeshooter, wake up m'boy, wake up!" he called, bending at the waist to shake the young boy sleeping soundly on the bottom bunk, his wiry brown hair splayed across the flat, dingy-white and blue striped pillow. The boy rolled over, mumbling inaudibly and clutching the thin wool blanket closer to his chest. With one last shake Kloppman stood up to face off against one of the older boys on which he used a different approach.

"Specs! Time to get up!" he called brandishing his walking stick and rapping it loudly against the brass bunk so that the curly haired boy started with a kick of his legs and reached in a blind panic for his wire rimmed spectacles.

Across the room now boys were starting to stir, reaching groggily for their clothes, which hung limply on bedposts, dirty from a week's hard work out on the dusty streets of Manhattan.

Kloppman retreated from the room as the boys pulled themselves out of bed and headed into the bathroom where a few would bath hurriedly in the freezing water from the pump, one jumping into the dirty water left by the boy before. The older boys shaved as quickly as possible while others crowded around the sink washing their faces with the strong soap provided by Kloppman, groping blindly for towels and talking loudly amongst themselves.

Despite the early wake up, they were a loud and energetic bunch as they discussed their favorite selling places and tactics, the girls they had met the day before and the ones they hoped to meet that day. Hard workers, but still young boys, Kloppman had to chuckle at their conversations, which floated downstairs and to his ears behind the reception desk.

Glancing at his pocket watch, which was already reading twenty-five after five, he placed his black bowler hat firmly on his head and shuffled to the rickety wooden staircase, hitting the railing with his cane.

A minute later a stream of boys appeared, still talking and laughing loudly, some taking the time out of their conversations to wave or call goodbye to the old man who was counting them as they passed.

When he was sure that all forty-six of his boys were on their way to work, he slumped momentarily against the railing; closing his eyes and praying briefly that each would have a good selling day, that the weather would keep pushing towards spring and the rain would hold off until night fall. And then he too would start on his day's work.

* * *

Across town in another boarding house a woman in her mid-forties faced a similar task. In her house she lodged sixteen girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen, all of whom worked at the factories that lined the city and made it hum with the noise of productivity.

Upstairs in four rooms the girls lay sleeping heavily, worn out from their days of working multiple weaving machines in the crowded rooms of the factories and the household chores they were expected to help with around the house at the end of each day.

Mrs. Miller ran a house primarily for girls who were both educated and well brought up, able to perform household tasks including cleaning, cooking and sewing. The sixteen girls that boarded with her were also expected to help out with the younger children who worked in the bobbin rooms of the factories and boarded in the house next door with her younger sister Miss. Amy.

As the clock in the parlor chimed five times, Mrs. Miller abandoned her knitting and walked up the stairs, her long skirts swishing gently, a silver bell held in one hand, the other resting on the banister.

Entering each room, separated by ages, she rang the bell until the girls raised their heads drowsily and acknowledged the start of another day.

Pulling on their winter woolen dresses, they made their way into the two bathrooms on the upper floor, sharing the mirrors as they arranged their hair into tightly braided buns held back with heavy pins to keep loose hairs from escaping and becoming tangled in the machinery.

All of their meals were shared with Miss Amy's younger pupils so the older girls could help keep the twenty-two rambunctious children under control. Before they could begin their meal, the younger girls had their hair plaited by the older girls and then they all took a seat around the long wooden table set in the kitchen of Mrs. Miller's boarding house.

Mrs. Miller and her sister both prided themselves on the caliber of their girls and often stressed the importance of punctuality, shooing the girls out of the house at exactly six forty-five. The older girls obligingly took the hands of the youngest girls and made their way through the crowded city towards the factories.

Although the majority of the girls who boarded at both houses had families of their own, they often lived outside of the city and opted for their daughters to board in order to make it to work on time each morning, and send their earnings home at the end of each week.

It was true that the younger girls suffered severe homesickness when they first arrived, but they soon adjusted to life at the factory, and at the boarding house as well, coming to view the older girls as sisters and temporary mothers. And although the older girls often griped about the burden of the twenty-two little girls to whom they had to watch, it brought them serene comfort at the end of the day, when hair had to be brushed out and small heads were laid on their laps. Motherhood was, after all, in each of their intended futures, and the oldest of girls, aged sixteen to eighteen were expected to leave the factories either before or shortly after their eighteenth birthdays to be married.

Until that day however, the girls formed a close bond between themselves, not only in their own house, but the other houses filled with factory girls as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: A Hard Day's Work

"I swear, I can't wait until this dreadful winter is over and we can pack these woolen dresses away, my arms positively itch!" Seventeen-year-old Elisabeth Collins said on a sunny March morning, 1899.

"Momma says never to swear," a small girl with two long dark plaits down her back reminded her sister as they walked side by side down the steps of Mrs. Miller's boarding house.

"Well Momma isn't here," Elisabeth reminded her "now be a doll and go run along with the other little girls Juliana so I can talk to Grace in peace."

The little girl gave her sister and the other older girl beside her a toothy grin before running a few steps ahead and falling into line with a few of the other children.

"Stay where I can see you!" Elisabeth called before turning back to the girl beside her, "And I thought having Juliana here with me would be nice! What a joke!"

"You were thrilled to see her when she arrived after Christmas vacation and you know it," Grace reminded her.

Elisabeth nodded, "I can't argue with you, however much I want to," she said, linking arms with Grace as they sidestepped a vendor setting up his wares for the day.

"Well anyway, it looks like you may get your wish, it feels warmer today, doesn't it?" Grace asked, patting Elisabeth's arm comfortingly

"It does, and it's been such a horrible winter, I think I'm going to be extravagant and buy myself the material for a new spring dress. As much as I hate these woolen ones, I despise the thought of all of my old poplin and cottons," Elisabeth sighed.

Grace laughed, "sometimes I think you've forgotten that your family isn't the sirs and ladies they once were."

"I haven't, we never were in my lifetime, but I do miss the money Papa lost in the phosphate mines when we moved from England to America," she said with another small sigh. "We were never rich; but, I never thought I would have to work for a living, or Juliana either. It was expected of Charles of course, but he's no better than an apprentice to Papa right now," she added, speaking of her older brother.

"It's funny how things work out," Grace said, picking up her skirt to keep it from dragging in a mud puddle created by the recent rainfall and melting snow.

Elisabeth nodded, thinking she really had no reason to complain, especially to Grace. She still had her whole family – and although she didn't get to see them often while they had been trying to rebuild their business in a small rural town in Connecticut for the past four years, she knew they loved her.

Elisabeth had met Grace upon coming to live at Mrs. Millers and work at the textile mill. Her parents had died of the fever shortly after immigrating from Ireland, leaving her penniless. Miss Amy had taken her in, taking pity on the seven-year-old child and practically raising her as her own. It was well known that Miss Amy was barren, so Grace had come as a welcomed addition to her life. Although she worked as a bobbin girl until she was of age to start at the factory, Miss Amy took special care to educate the girl, both feeding and dressing her adequately until Grace was able to provide for herself.

Meeting at the delicate age of thirteen, the girls had become close friends, living in the same room of Mrs. Miller's boarding house and working together in the milling rooms of the textile factory. Grace, a seasoned worker at the factory had taken Elisabeth by the hand and shown her the ways of a factory girl when Elisabeth was still baffled at being moved into such a large city by herself and expected to keep up with the fast paced factory life in order to make enough money to support herself. In return, Elisabeth offered Grace the comforts of a close friend and confidant. Now, at the age of seventeen, the two young women were nearly inseparable, having grown into their teenage years together, there was little one didn't know about the other.

"So what do you think about the petition Annabelle is sending around – about the better working conditions. Are you going to sign?" Grace asked.

"Are you kidding? You know as well as I do that's the best way to be fired and blacklisted from every factory in the city," Elisabeth exclaimed shaking her head of heavy dark hair so that the pins holding it in place glistened in the sunlight.

"I know it," Grace agreed, "but they do have a point, don't you think? You hear about the girls who fall ill and are fired before they're well enough to come back to work. And think of the little ones, they should be in school, not working so many hours every day. What would you do if Juliana got the cough?"

"Don't even speak of it Grace! Please! I think about it all of the time, but Mama and Papa are struggling enough as it is right now. Juliana and I need to pull our weight," Elisabeth said in a resigned and determined voice, "with any luck we won't be here long enough to need to worry about it." She paused for a moment trying to let the morning's sun cleanse her of the idea of her younger sister getting the racking cough that came from too much exposure to the dusty atmosphere of the factory and resulted in an untimely and painful death. "You're not seriously thinking about signing are you?" she asked her friend, allowing her gray-green eyes to search the blue ones of her closest friend.

"Of course not, not yet anyway. I just think they have the right idea. You know I had to find a new placement after getting the measles when I was ten, it just isn't right."

"There isn't much left in this world that does seem to be right," Elisabeth said as they passed Central Park.

Grace patted her arm again, "try not to be cynical or you'll have as many wrinkles as Mrs. Miller before you know it."

Elisabeth laughed, "Don't say it, I can't imagine being married to a man like the former Mr. Miller – his picture above the mantel looks like a stuck pig!"

Grace's eyes danced with mirth as the two girls giggled their way across the park and towards work, the petition, for now, forgotten.

* * *

"Extra! Extra! Bank broken into – thousands of dollars missing! Thank you ma'am, thank you." Racetrack Higgins deposited the penny into the pocket of his plaid vest and waved another paper in the air, "It might have been yours! Thousands of dollars stolen!"

"You're going to start a bank rush with that headline," Skittery said drifting closer to his Italian friend and reading over his shoulder the headline that read "Security Guard Thinks Stray Dog is Burglar."

"Aw shut your trap," Race said taking off his cap and hitting Skittery on the arm, "you're just jealous 'cause you didn't think of it….woah, there she is," he said clutching his hat to his chest with his free hand.

"Who?" Skittery asked handing a paper to a woman with her small son in tow and pocketing his penny.

"Over there, the girl with the dark hair, the one in the blue dress," he said staring at the two girls who were trailing a few steps behind a group of young girls.

"What about 'em?"

"She's gorgeous, she's stopped by to buy a paper ever day this week," he said, an awestruck expression on his face.

"You think everyone is gorgeous," Skittery pointed out as the girls drew closer.

"I'm not kidding this time Skits, not even you will be able to say that this girl isn't a looker. Her friend isn't bad either, haven't seen her smile though, more of the hoity toity type, I think," Race babbled, oblivious to the man next to him dressed in a suit and obviously waiting for a paper.

Sensing the opportunity, Skittery handed the man a paper, "Pape, sir?" he asked, collecting his penny – Race was his friend, sure – but this was business, and right now Race wasn't keeping his head in the game. That was the problem with half the newsies, one pretty girl walks by and they lose their heads, Skittery thought meanly, the fools – no girl was going to keep him from eating that night.

* * *

"Juliana! Stay away from the pond!" Elisabeth called from the dirt path she and Grace were traveling.

"Hold on a second, I'm going to go buy a paper," Grace said reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a penny.

Elisabeth sighed, "I don't see why you bother, you don't have time to read it anyway. It's a waste of a penny, and if we don't hurry, we'll be late and our pay will be docked. I really don't want to be lectured by Mr. Tuthill today."

"It'll only take a second, and besides, my penny will help the newsboy I give it to so he can use it to buy goods made by our mill and keep us in business," Grace argued.

Elisabeth laughed, "Oh Grace, you know they won't use it on clothes, if they did they wouldn't wear such an odd assortment of garments. You just like to flirt with them, it's really not proper."

"Says who? You know I have a cousin…"

"Who's a newsie in Brooklyn, I know, I didn't mean to insult you," Elisabeth said "But you know what I mean, flirting with boys in the street, and boys who will never be able to provide for you. It was ok a few years ago, but if we're expected to marry soon, we should be looking at those who are eligible."

Grace shook her head, "I really don't give a fig what everyone thinks or who's eligible, I'll talk to who I please," she said, marching boldly up to two newsies clad in mismatched clothing, scuffed boots and caps.

"Pape, miss?" Racetrack asked with a smile, and a smug look back at the newsie beside him.

"Yes, please," Grace said handing him her penny, smiling at him and Skittery in turn. "Any good news today?" she asked, tossing Elisabeth a defiant look.

Elisabeth sighed and gathered the little girls from the edge of the pond getting them back on the dirt path where they stood getting jittery, full of energy from their breakfast.

"Nothing too interesting ma'am," Racetrack said, losing his gift of gab at his surprise over her sudden call to conversation.

"No? This one looks interesting," she said pointing a gloved finger towards a front-page article about a small demonstration held by the trolley workers of the city.

"It won't amount to nothing," Race said shaking his head

"No?" Grace asked, raising an eyebrow, "well, I guess we'll see. I better get going, my friend is waiting for me, and it looks like yours is too," she said, picking up her skirt with one hand and waving goodbye, the paper held tight, with the other.

"Have that out of your system?" Elisabeth asked once they were back on their way and the little girls were trotting along ahead of them.

"Until tomorrow," Grace laughed "Come on Elisabeth, you have to admit, they are rather cute."

"I couldn't tell which one you thought more of, I must admit you're very good at spreading your affections evenly."

"Well, I really couldn't decide which one I liked more," Grace admitted

"I still think it isn't proper, but if you insist, maybe they could at least help you find your cousin. You know it isn't likely we'll ever get over there ourselves," Elisabeth said.

"No, but remember when we tried?" Grace asked as they neared the factory and watched the little girls run up the stairs as the warning bell sounded.

"Yes," Elisabeth laughed "and we got lost in Midtown and had to be brought home by the police. I thought Mrs. Miller was going to throw us out onto the streets. Lucky we were only fourteen and she took pity on us."

Stripping off her coat and gloves, Grace hung them on a peg in the cloak room, waiting for Elisabeth to do the same, "And when she wrote your parents and they came all the way down here the next weekend to scold you."

Elisabeth laughed again, "And you got to meet my brother Charles and see what a fine catch he is," she said checking her hair in the mirror to make sure no strands had come undone. Once, during her first year at the factory, her hair had come out of its plait and tangled in the machinery. She was lucky she hadn't been scalped, and had only to suffer the humiliation of having the majority of her hair cut off. Being as prideful as she was, it wasn't an experience she was likely to ever forget, or repeat.

"Oh stop it," Grace said with a blush, "you know your family doesn't find me suitable, and Charles is nearly five years older than me."

"Well at the time they didn't, because you were my partner in crime," Elisabeth laughed as they walked from the cloak room into a large room filled with weaving machines, giving the foreman, Milton Tuthill, innocent smiles as they passed. "You know they love you now, and I have it on strict authority that Charles finds you to be quite pretty these days."

Grace blushed again as she tacked her newspaper up to the wall in between two of the four machines that she kept running.

"Hi Grace, Hello Elisabeth!"

"Good Morning Maria!" the girls chorused with a smile as their petite friend joined their line of machines.

"What are you two laughing about so early in the morning?" Maria asked, her Italian accent subtle after ten years living in New York.

"Just remembering," Elisabeth said as Mr. Tuthill rang the bell and the girls started their machines.

"I don't know about this," Grace said a few moments later, above the din of the roaring machines, "this is the second demonstration held by the trolley workers this month, it seems all of the workers of New York are unsatisfied with their conditions."

"Maybe so," Elisabeth said keeping one eye on her machines and the other on Mr. Tuthill who was threading his way around the maze of machinery, "but I don't think this is the place to discuss it."

Grace nodded, "I suppose you're right," she said falling silent as one of Elisabeth's machines came to a grinding halt.

"Oh, it's too early for this," Elisabeth grumbled using nimble fingers to undo the jumbled thread that was caught in the machine.

Grace cast her a sympathetic look, "Only ten hours and fifty-six minutes to go," she muttered rolling her eyes.

Elisabeth sighed as she got the machine running again, 'just don't look at the clock' she kept telling herself, 'just don't look at the clock.'

* * *

When the lunch bell rang signaling the beginning of the hour-long break, Elisabeth sighed in relief. It had been a rough morning, her machines had been temperamental which had made Mr. Tuthill increasingly temperamental as well.

"Oh, I hate that man," she muttered to Grace as they met in the cloakroom and pulled on their coats. "Juliana, come here," she called tiredly holding out her sister's coat and then bending to button it for her.

"Well the days half over," Grace said eyeing Elisabeth.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Elisabeth asked.

"Well…" Grace hedged, but feeling caught under Elisabeth's stubborn scrutiny plowed on, "I was thinking we could go get lunch at Tibbys…"

"At where?" Elisabeth asked as they got caught in the wave of girls leaving the factory for their respective boarding houses.

"Tibby's…it's a small restaurant, very moderately priced…it's where the newsboys go to eat, or so I'm told…"

"Don't be ridiculous Grace, you know we're expected back at the house for lunch. Why on earth would you want to pay for lunch when we have ours waiting for us?" Elisabeth said heading in the direction of Mrs. Millers' when Grace's hand on her arm stopped her.

"Just this once, Lissy, please?" Grace asked, using the pet name she kept in reserve for when she really needed Elisabeth on her side.

"What about Juliana? I can't leave her," Elisabeth argued, visibly weakening at the use of her nickname.

"Bring her with us," Grace said with a shrug

"And expose her to God knows what!"

"They're newsboys Elisabeth, not demons. Juliana sees them everyday, don't you Jules?" she asked the little girl who had been listening to the conversation eagerly awaiting her sister's decision.

"Oh please, Lissy, let's go to the restaurant," she begged, grabbing hold of her sister's hand and looking up at her with her large violet-brown eyes.

"And what about the other little girls?" She asked in a last-ditch effort to change their minds.

"If you haven't noticed, while we've been standing here arguing they've already gone off with the other girls, now you have no more arguments," Grace pointed out, not bothering to hide her pleasure.

"Fine, run and catch up with Bethany and have her tell Mrs. Miller that we've stayed behind to go to the public library," Elisabeth sighed.

"You're the best," Grace said grabbing Elisabeth and pulling her into a brief hug before running to catch up with Bethany, who was often sick and known to lag behind the others.

"Alright, let's go!" Grace said returning to Elisabeth and Juliana, leading them across town to a small restaurant crowded with young boys.

"Oh Grace, this is such a bad idea," Elisabeth said warily, looking in through the painted window.

"It'll be fine," Grace said, pushing her own worries aside and dragging Elisabeth through the door.

The three figures stood in the doorway, the bell chiming above them, frozen in their tracks as they caught the attention of the patrons inside.

"This way," Grace said, steering them over to one of the few empty tables left.

"Can I get you ladies something to drink?" an apron clad waiter asked a few minutes later, arriving at their table looking harassed from the busy lunch hour.

"A glass of water for me, and a glass of milk for her, please," Elisabeth said motioning to Juliana.

"Water for me also," Grace said accepting the menus that the waiter handed her.

"Can I have anything I want Lissy?" Juliana asked as the waiter disappeared.

Fingering one of the child's thick braids Elisabeth nodded, "sure," she said, dropping the braid and smoothing the hair from her sister's face. "I feel like we're being stared at," she added, turning her attention to the menu, knowing she wouldn't order anything so she could pay for Juliana who was too young to remember ever having the money to go out to a restaurant whenever they wanted.

"You're just paranoid," Grace said, though she too could feel the eyes on them.

Searching the restaurant under the guise of reading the menu, she located the newsie from the park and almost dropped the menu in surprise when she saw him staring at her.

"Ready to order?" the waiter asked, holding a tray of drinks which he deposited in front of them.

"I'll have the hotdog!" Juliana said smiling up at the waiter.

"Say please," Elisabeth reprimanded gently.

"I'll have the hotdog, please," Juliana corrected

The waiter returned her smile and looked to Grace who, looking distracted, ordered a chicken sandwich.

"Nothing for me, thank you," Elisabeth said handing the waiter her menu.

"You're not eating anything?" Grace asked, looking at her in surprise.

Elisabeth shook her head, "I told you I want to buy a new dress this spring, I need to save my money. Besides, I'm really not hungry," she said fiddling with her napkin, staring straight ahead towards the kitchen, trying her best to avoid the looks of the boys around her.

Juliana didn't notice her sister's apprehension and looked around with wide-eyes, offering smiles to anyone who looked her way. At seven years old, she was still innocent and exceedingly friendly and willing to trust those around her.

"Juliana, please," Elisabeth said as the little girl twisted in her seat and waved at a boy sitting a few tables away who had just smiled at her.

The boy, who looked around the age of twelve, and had an unruly mop of curly hair barely concealed under a cap, held up his spoon, breathing on it and pressing it to his nose where it stuck and dangled.

Juliana squealed with laughter, "do you see it Lissy?" she asked.

Taking a sip of water to keep from laughing at the look on her sister's face, Elisabeth found herself relaxing in Juliana's presence.

"Your daughter is adorable," a roughened New York accent said from behind Elisabeth.

Choking on her water, Elisabeth felt herself flush a bright red while Juliana shrieked with laughter next to her.

"I'm not her daughter, I'm her sister!"

"Oh well excuse me little lady," the boy said with a laugh, taking one of her hands and kissing it.

Elisabeth turned to look at the boy and found herself looking up into the face of a tall boy, with dirty blonde hair and warm brown eyes, which were sparkling down at her. A black cowboy hat was hanging from his neck where a red bandana was tied. His clothes were ill fitting, his vest hanging loosely on his thin frame.

"Jack Kelly," he said extending a hand to which Elisabeth offered hers, unsure of a polite way to deny his acquaintance.

Realizing due to Grace's discreet kick under the table, that she hadn't introduced herself, she blushed again, "Elisabeth Collins, this is my sister, Juliana and our friend Grace O'Brien," she said, glad when he dropped her hand and removed his gaze to greet Stephanie.

"It's a pleasure," he said with another smile, which he directed at Juliana who beamed back at him. "We couldn't help but notice how cute your little sister here is, so I thought I'd introduce myself and see if you wanted to join us," he said nodding in the direction of the newsboys who were scattered across several booths and tables, eating and talking animatedly.

"I don't think that would be…"

"A problem at all," Grace finished for her smiling at Jack and standing up.

"Good, Juliana, why don't you come with me," he said, taking her hand and leading her across the restaurant to a booth where several boys were sitting, including the newsie that had sold Grace her morning paper.

"Grace, you did not mention eating with them, this isn't fair," Elisabeth whispered angrily watching with the air of a mother bear, as Jack picked Juliana up and placed her in the booth.

"I'm sorry Lissy, I couldn't say no. Remember, I can ask them about Brooklyn."

"You owe me," Elisabeth said, clearly displeased as they picked up their coats and drinks and moved over to the other side of the restaurant, squeezing into the booth with Jack, three other newsies and Juliana, who was staring up at Jack with mingled admiration and amusement.

"Here's your milk Juliana, don't spill it," Elisabeth said handing it across the table to the little girl.

"Well now that we're all here, let me introduce you fellas to Grace, Elisabeth and our little friend here Juliana," Jack said with another smile directed at the little girl who was starting to look at him with something of hero worship.

Elisabeth frowned in concern at the girl's affections as Jack began his introductions of the three newsboys sitting with them.

"This here is Kid Blink," Jack was saying putting a hand on the shoulder of a tall boy with sandy colored hair and a patch over one of his twinkling blue eyes.

"Pleasure," he said tipping his hat with a grin that took over his other features.

"And Mush," Jack continued, nodding towards a built boy with brown curly hair and a sweet face who seemed mesmerized to be in the company of two well-dressed girls who were sitting with them voluntarily.

"And finally, this here is Racetrack, but we just call him Race, most of the time," Jack said, nodding towards the short Italian boy from the park.

"Nice to meet you again," he said with a smile directed at Grace, who blushed slightly and nodded in agreement.

"So what are you girls doing in these parts?" Blink asked through a bite of turkey sandwich.

"Well actually," Grace said with the air of one who was about to embark on a difficult speech, "we were hoping you could do us a favor."

Jack raised his brows, "Us? What could we do?"

Grace looked to Elisabeth who shrugged her shoulders slightly and offered only a hint of a smile in support.

"I was hoping you could help me find my cousin. The last I heard he's a newsie in Brooklyn, and I just thought that you might know of him, or someone who would," Grace plowed on as their food arrived and Juliana wriggled in excitement as her hot dog was placed in front of her.

Jack took the time to look over and smile at her before turning back to Grace who was playing, in what Elisabeth considered to be a very unladylike manner, with the bread of her sandwich while waiting for their reply.

"Do you know his name?" Jack asked

"Robert Finnigan, he's probably around my age, sixteen or seventeen," Grace supplied.

"How is it you don't know where he is?" Race asked finally finding his voice as he finished his meal.

"Well," Grace said, chewing her sandwich slowly before continuing, "when we moved here from Ireland, we were supposed to go to live with my Mother's sister and her family; my uncle and cousin Robert. When we got here we went to Queens where they were living and found they had fallen ill with the pox. My aunt had already passed, my uncle was delirious, all he could tell us was that he had sent Robert to Brooklyn to be a newsie there with some school friends of his. He died two days later, and my parents, having spent those days in the slums nursing him, caught the fever and died shortly after. That was nearly ten years ago."

The newsboys around her didn't look surprised at her story, many of them had similar pasts.

"Well it might be hard not knowing his newsie name, you see miss, we all go by nicknames," Race said "But Jack don't you think Spot could help?"

"Who is Spot?" Grace asked with interest

"Leader of the Brooklyn newsies, he'd be your best chance," Jack said eyeing Elisabeth with amusement as she fiddled with the napkin in her lap trying not to laugh at the strange nickname.

"Does he ever come to Manhattan? I'm afraid we don't have much of a chance to venture as far as Brooklyn…"

"Juliana!" Elisabeth yelled as the little girl knocked over her glass of milk as she leaned forward to continue a game of peek-a-boo with the younger curly haired boy across the restaurant.

Juliana stared at the spreading mess with wide eyes, "I'm sorry Lissy!" she said pulling her white apron away from her dress and mopping up her mess.

"Oh not your apron," Elisabeth moaned.

"No use crying over spilled milk my mother always said," Jack said taking his napkin and cleaning up the mess. "How about a smile?" he asked tugging on one of Juliana's braids.

She smiled up at him but looked nervously at her older sister who sat across the booth looking stern as the conversation picked up around them again with Grace talking to Race, Mush and Kid.

"Here now, let's get you another glass of milk, need it to grow big and strong," Jack said handing a penny to the passing waiter.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I realize you don't have the means…" Elisabeth started and then stopped with a flush.

"You can say it," Jack said with sparkling eyes.

"It really isn't proper to discuss finances," Elisabeth said as the waiter brought another glass of milk and handed it to Juliana who drank it quickly.

Catching Elisabeth's horrified look, Jack quickly picked up Mush's unused napkin and wiped the little girl's milk-stained mouth to save her from another lecture. "Ain't nothing we don't discuss often enough," he said in reference to his financial situation, and smiled at her again, amused by the prim and proper girl in front of him.

"Mr. Kelly, I really must object," she said but was cut off by the half sandwich that was thrust in front of her.

"I see you're not eating anything, you really should," Jack said

Spying the dirt under his fingernails, Elisabeth maintained a straight, emotionless face and declined politely, "I'm really not hungry, thank you."

"He's right, you should eat Lissy!" Juliana said and then looked to Jack, "she always says she isn't hungry and gives me her food."

"Juliana," Elisabeth said with a sigh "it's time to go, we have to get back to work and I'm sure these nice boys do too."

"You're right about that," Jack said stepping out of the booth and offering Elisabeth a hand, which she pretended not to see.

Lifting his eyes skyward for a second, he turned to Juliana and swung the child out of the booth smiling at her obvious amusement.

"I don't know what I'd do for a kid sister like yours," he said to Elisabeth, tugging on one of Juliana's braids again and smiling down at the girl.

Bending down, Elisabeth got Juliana into her coat, pausing to examine the damp apron, "nothing we can do about it now, you'll just have to go through the day smelling of sour milk and we'll wash it tonight," she said with a small sigh before buttoning her up and pulling on her mittens.

"Mr. Kelly, it was a pleasure," she said formally, accepting the bill from the waiter and depositing a few coins into his hand to pay for Juliana's meal. Pulling on her own coat and gloves she took Juliana's hand and waited for Grace who was slow in putting on her coat and leaving the newsies. Her eyes were trained on one in particular across the room, the other newsie from the park that morning, Elisabeth remembered. He was wearing a pink shirt and a frown, pulling down on the front of his cap in agitation as the boy next to him spoke energetically, waving his hands.

"So we'll talk to Spot as soon as possible and see what we can find out about that cousin of yours," Race was saying as Grace dug in her pocket for the coins to pay for her lunch.

"Thank you so much. Really, you have no idea what this means to me to have a chance to find kin," she said paying the waiter who looked more than relieved to see the end of the lunch crowd.

"It's nothing," Race said with a toothy grin

"So where can we find you ladies – when we have news from Brooklyn?" Jack asked.

"Well we live in a boarding house," Grace said, stopping when she caught Elisabeth's warning look. Although male callers were permitted, Mrs. Miller was as adamant about the caliber of the girl's callers as she was about the girls. "So perhaps it would be best for you to find us after we get out of work."

Jack nodded and as they exited the restaurant, Grace gave them directions to their factory and ended by thanking them again.

"Anything we can do to help," Jack said with a tip of his hat.

"Yeah," Race echoed as more newsies streamed out of the restaurant and out into the streets.

"Grace, we really need to get going," Elisabeth said, still holding on to Juliana's hand despite the girl's squirming.

Grace nodded, "well, hopefully we'll see you soon."

Elisabeth offered a slight nod and a fraction of a smile to the other newsies and tried to wait as patiently as possible for Jack to say goodbye to her sister.

"Goodbye Juliana, I hope to see you soon," he said

"Bye Jack!" the little girl cried, waving her free hand vigorously

Standing up straight, Jack allowed his eyes to meet Elisabeth's, "and a real pleasure to meet you," he said snatching up her free hand and kissing it swiftly. "Have a good rest of your day girls," he said as he and his newsies took off down the street.

"The nerve of that boy," Elisabeth said feeling her face burn red.

"I think you like him," Grace said with surprise, "you're certainly flushed."

"Oh hush, he just caught me off guard," she replied finally releasing Juliana's hand and letting the girl skip in front of them.

"Well I think they were all very nice. And so willing to help us too," Grace said with a smile.

"I don't know why you keep saying us," Elisabeth grumbled.

Grace hooked her arm through her friend's and nudged her gently, "because you know you'd do anything for me, and I for you."

"I suppose so," Elisabeth sighed but smiled despite herself. "I have to admit, they were rather good-looking for…well, you know."

"Really, I don't know how you've managed to maintain your aristocratic prejudices living in a boarding house," Grace said with a laugh.

"Old habits die hard," Elisabeth quoted feeling her bad mood lessening significantly as they neared the factory and joined the queue of girls filing back inside.

Sobering suddenly, Elisabeth turned to Grace, "tell me the truth though, do I really look old enough to be Juliana's mother?"

Grace chortled, wrapping her arm around Elisabeth as they walked inside to finish their day.

* * *

"So?"

"So, you didn't lie Race, they were gorgeous," Mush said as they walked back towards their selling spots after lunch.

"Yeah I'm surprised, you didn't exaggerate for once," Blink said "real high class girls," he said, almost dreamily, as was his nature when thinking about the attractive female gender.

"Nice too," Mush said "girls like them are never nice."

"Well they're not exactly the mayor's daughter, ey Blink?" Jack asked, nudging the towhead in the ribs gently with his elbow. "They're just regular working girls, just brought up right, good parents I guess," he concluded with only the slightest hint of envy in his voice.

"Not Grace," Race said "While you were trying to get on her friend's good side," he paused to snicker at Jack's failed attempts at winning Elisabeth's affections, "she told us that the owner of their boarding house raised her. Kind of like Kloppman."

"I was wondering about that when she said her parents died when she was seven," Jack mused as they came to the distribution center to pick up the evening paper.

"Yeah, the woman found her wandering the streets, real lucky break, oh, heya Dutchy," Blink added as a boy with white-blond hair and wire spectacles joined them.

"Heya boys, I heard you had some fine company at lunch today, sorry I missed it myself, but I had a bad morning," he added with a frown.

"What happened?" Jack asked looking concerned.

"Nothin unusual, just a run in with the Delancey brothers, tried to rough me up a bit and when I laid into them, the bulls came after me. Got away though, but had to lay low for awhile. Never did finish my morning papes."

"It'll be ok Dutch," Jack said clapping the shorter boy on the back as they reached the counter.

Glaring at the clerk, a fat and pompous man, Jack slammed a coin down on the counter and accepted his papers with a warning look in Oscar Delancey's direction. "Keep out of our way Oscar, and tell your brother too."

"Like to see what you'd do if we don't," Oscar leered at him from behind the bars.

"That's a good look for you Oscar, behind bars, but I guess that's to be expected with your father in jail and your mother being born in a zoo," Jack snorted.

The boys behind him chortled as Oscar glared murderously in their direction, but he didn't move.

"Settle down," the clerk commanded.

"Uncle Weisel, you heard what they said," Oscar argued, looking around for his brother Morris for some assistance.

"Yeah Mr. Weasel, you heard what I said," Jack taunted the man who was perspiring slightly and looked rumpled.

"Away from the gate!" he roared finally when it became apparent that he wasn't able to think of a retort.

Still laughing the newsies moved along, scattering across the streets of New York to sell the evening paper.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Making Plans

Elisabeth sighed as she hung up Juliana's damp apron that night after dinner. Having given it a thorough scrubbing to relieve it of the smell of sour milk, she hung it on the drying rack across from the nightstand that stood between her and Grace's beds. On the nightstand sat the book she had taken out of the lending library that day after work in order to quell Mrs. Miller's suspicion about their lack of attendance at lunch that day. Although it wrenched her awfully to surrender the two cents for the weeklong loan, she was grateful to have something new to read.

Gathering the book and her knitting basket, she retreated back downstairs into the busy parlor where several girls were entertaining callers while others gathered around the roaring fire to gossip idly as their hands flicked rapidly on various pieces of knitting or darning.

Pulling up a chair next to Grace and Marnie, a petite redhead who also shared their room, she opened her book on her lap and began work on the blanket she was making as a gift for her mother's birthday.

"How do you expect to read when your knitting is flowing down into your lap already?" Marnie asked looking at Elisabeth skeptically.

Having realized the same thing, Elisabeth looked perplexed for a minute before looking across the room to where Juliana was playing marbles with a few of the other little girls.

"Juliana, come read to me please," she called.

"Aw, right now Lissy?" she asked, looking up from her crouched position on the floor, her braids sweeping the carpet.

"Yes please, you haven't done any reading all week, and you've been neglecting your speller."

"Come on Elisabeth, give her a break," Grace said observing the look that passed between the other little girls – one that clearly read "thank goodness our older sisters aren't here to boss us around."

"Grace, she has to learn, lord knows no one else will teach her," Elisabeth said softly and then called once more across the room to her sister.

Trotting over obligingly Juliana sat on the floor next to her sister's chair and took the book she was offered.

"Thank you," Elisabeth said, patting the child on the head affectionately before picking up her knitting again as the child began to read rather reluctantly.

Elisabeth often experienced pangs of guilt at moments like this when she took her sister away from her friends and had her do something scholastic, but she knew she would feel far worse if her sister grew up under her care to be ignorant.

Still, she was careful to pick books she thought Juliana could take an interest in and always alternated between her reading and having Juliana sound out the words and improve her literacy. Although the child often resisted the assignment of reading aloud, she loved to be read to and because of this she was willing to forgive her sister for making her miss out on the occasional playtime with her friends.

"Lissy," Juliana said many minutes later after working her way through the first chapter of Little Women, "these girls are a lot like us, aren't they?"

"I suppose they might be," Elisabeth said with a hint of amusement in her voice, her knitting needles never coming to a halt.

"Who do you think we each are Jules?" Grace asked, for she too had been listening to Juliana's hesitant reading. Although she was usually one to stick up for the little girl and her right to playtime, Grace also enjoyed hearing the sisters' read and rarely missed a chapter.

"Well," she said putting a hand under her chin and propping it on her knee thoughtfully,

"Elisabeth is definitely Meg."

"And why do you say that?" Elisabeth asked pulling a missed stitch out of her knitting before resuming.

"Well, because you're the oldest, and you really want to get married and have lots of money again," she said with the honesty possessed only by a child, causing Grace and Marnie to laugh loudly.

"Don't say 'lots of' say 'a lot'," Elisabeth grumbled, but she felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth and gave in grudgingly as Grace nudged her gently saying,

"don't be angry that Jules is perceptive. You taught her to be."

"Go on Jules, what about the rest of us?" Marnie asked.

"Grace would be Jo I think, because she's imaginative and she does love to write so."

"Well-spotted," Grace said with a satisfied nod.

"And I would like to be Amy, even if she is a bit snooty. Is that ok, Lissy? It's only because she does love art and so do I, and she is said to be dreadfully pretty."

"Well, being that you are dreadfully pretty I think that would be appropriate," Elisabeth said, always unable to resist stroking the child's ego. Juliana's beauty was indeed the one aspect of the girl that Elisabeth could find no fault, and she spoiled her with pretty hair ribbons and sweet dresses, spending tedious hours to embroider her Sunday aprons with colorful flowers.

"Well that would leave me as Beth, and I'm not sure that fits," Marnie said with a knit brow.

It was true, Marnie was far from the quietest girl in the house, and even at fifteen was often scolded by Mrs. Miller for clamoring up the stairs at an unladylike pace and talking too loudly and too fast.

"You play the piano at least, and remember that time you smuggled in the kitten?" Grace said with a laugh, "I think it fits well enough for our purposes."

"That it does," Elisabeth said finally putting down her knitting and patting her lap to show that Juliana could climb upon it, "I'll read the next chapter before you head off to sleep," she said as her sister nestled in her arms, laying her warm head against her breast.

Sighing in contentment Elisabeth picked up reading where Juliana had left off as the other little girls, sleep coming to their eyes, inched closer, some taken up by other older girls who unbraided their hair and ran fingers through the waves to remove tangles.

When the chapter came to an end, and the callers had all returned to their respective houses, Elisabeth gathered Juliana in her arms and hugged her tightly. "Good night Juliana, sleep well," she said softly while running her fingers once more through the wavy chestnut locks of her sister before releasing her.

Looking up with sleep-filled eyes, Juliana managed a soft goodnight to her sister before sliding off her lap and onto the floor to be led out of the parlor by Miss Amy and back to their side of the house to be tucked away in their beds.

Standing up, Elisabeth tucked her sister's hair ribbons into her pocket and pulled one of the hairpins from her still impeccable quaff to mark her place in the book and followed silently by the drowsy Grace and Marnie, retreated to bed.

* * *

The next day came much like the one before, and once again Elisabeth and Grace found themselves falling behind the other girls with only Juliana and her group of friends for company as they made their way to work.

"Why are we walking so slow today Lissy, we don't want to be late do we?" Juliana asked as they approached Central Park.

"Because Grace is being very silly," Elisabeth replied, ignoring the scowl thrown in her direction.

Truthfully, the girls didn't want to be late, but they couldn't run the risk of being seen by the other girls talking with a pair of newsboys in a familiar way. As it was, Elisabeth planned on taking the little girls farther ahead when Grace stopped to talk to Racetrack and Skittery and whoever else might have come along. As they both knew from the time nine-year old Allie Foster caught them stealing food out of the kitchen and told Mrs. Miller, little girls couldn't be trusted.

"I'm going to take the left path," Elisabeth murmured to Grace "we'll meet you on the other side of the park."

Grace nodded as Elisabeth gathered the little girls around her and directed them down the left side path, waiting until they were out of sight before walking the remaining yards to where a couple of newsies were gathered.

"Heya Miss Grace," Race greeted with an infectious grin as she came to a stop in front of him. "Sorry about the crowd, I tried to tell them not to all come…" he said apologetically.

"It's alright Racetrack," Grace said while surveying the crowd of boys including Jack, Kid Blink and Skittery.

"Well listen, we know you have to get to work," Jack said stepping forward "but we just wanted to let you know that we'll be seeing Spot this weekend so we might have some information for you by Sunday."

Grace looked thoughtful a minute, thinking that Elisabeth was sure to hate her for what she was about to say, but desperate times called for desperate measures…

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "every Sunday after church we take a walk through the park…" she let her eyes flicker to Jack's before finishing, "Elisabeth never misses it."

Jack smirked without denying or admitting his interest, "I guess we'll see you Sunday then."

Grace returned his smile and extended a hand for him to kiss, "See you Sunday," she said, pulling a penny out of her bag and handing it to Race, accepting her paper.

"Thank you Racetrack, goodbye boys," she added, sweeping away down the path leaving the group of gaping newsies staring after her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Sunday Meeting

Not wanting to give Elisabeth the chance, or prior knowledge, to back out of their weekly Sunday walk, Grace kept one of her rare secrets from her friend and finished out the week in silence.

"Well don't you just look like the cat that ate the canary," Elisabeth said as they left the Catholic Church they attended each Sunday and Wednesday for mass. As per the regulation of the factories of New York, all of the working girls had to attend services somewhere at least once a week. Grace was, of course, a staunch Catholic, and Elisabeth followed according to her upbringing, together they and Juliana attended not once, but twice a week, often with Elisabeth's prodding to get them out of the house in time for the evening mass on Wednesdays.

"Who me?"

"Who else?" Elisabeth said with a laugh, shifting the basket containing their picnic lunch and the borrowed copy of 'Little Women' onto the crook of her arm.

"Lissy, it's too warm for my coat," Juliana said, shedding the garment as they stepped onto the cobblestone street.

Spring had indeed finally come in full force and it was rather warm so she took the child's coat and slung it over her other arm, "run on ahead Juliana, but not so far that I can't see you."

Pent up and stir crazy from the two-hour mass, the child didn't need a second invitation before breaking into a trot, her neatly curled hair held back by a single silky blue bow bouncing down her back.

"She really is a gorgeous child," Grace said

"Don't change the subject," Elisabeth said, though she couldn't help but smile at Grace's compliment of her sister.

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about," She said as they rounded the corner and headed in the direction of the park entrance.

"You ought to know by now that I can tell when you're telling a fib, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself for doing so directly after confession and mass," Elisabeth admonished.

Grace ignored her and entered the park, staring furtively in each direction for any sigh of the newsies while Elisabeth continued her lecture on the dangers she was inflicting on her mortal soul by not telling her what she was hiding.

"Elisabeth please, there is nothing wrong with keeping a secret," she said finally, but catching the slightly injured look that came into her best friend's eyes, she felt herself giving in. "Okay, I'll tell you, but you have to promise you won't get upset."

Elisabeth nodded her consent, keeping her eyes on Juliana who was skipping down the path several yards ahead of them.

"Well I told Racetrack and…."

"Jack!!" Juliana squealed in delight as the tall boy appeared from the opposite direction joined by Racetrack and a slightly sulking Skittery several steps behind.

Scooping the little girl up in his arms he held her up easily and examined her laughing face, "well don't you look pretty with your hair all curled up"

"Thank you! Lissy does it for me every Sunday for church," she explained with a toothy smile, turning back to look at her sister who had stopped in her tracks, an angry look across her face at the scene in front of her.

Setting the child back down on the ground, Jack advanced toward Elisabeth who scarcely noticed, as she was too busy glaring at Grace, until he touched her elbow with a roughened hand.

"Pleasure to see you again Miss Elisabeth," he said with a characteristic smile.

Jerking her elbow out from under his hand she took a step back, picked up her skirt with one hand and collected Juliana's hand in her other, pulling her down the path.

"Lissy! Wait, where are we going?" Juliana asked as Elisabeth made a quick path away from Grace and the newsies, finally coming to a stop next to a pond.

Spreading the blanket she carried in the basket, she took a seat and motioned for Juliana to do the same before handing her the copy of 'Little Women' and having her commence reading.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Grace stammered, back with the newsies. "I didn't tell her you would be coming, I'm afraid it caught her off-guard."

"Aw, it's alright Miss Grace, we understand," Racetrack said "We sort of used to that kind of reaction."

Grace blushed, "I really am sorry, she isn't normally so rude. I expect she's mad at me for not telling her."

Racetrack waved her apology aside but Skittery frowned and looked as though he meant to make a snide remark but was cut off by Jack who pulled Race aside.

"Race, you and Skittery fill Miss Grace here, in on what we learned from Spot yesterday."

"Yeah, and where are you going Jack? To try and talk to Miss Elisabeth? I'll bet ya two-bits she won't have anything to do with you." Racetrack said with a laugh as Jack started to lope down the path in the direction Elisabeth had traveled moments before.

"It's a bet you're going to lose, Race," he called back, disappearing around a bend and out of sight.

Rejoining Grace, who was smiling awkwardly at Skittery who was looking stubbornly past her, Race smiled at them both, "why don't we walk a little?"

Grace nodded her consent and once again, Skittery fell into step behind them.

"Well like Jack said," Racetrack started once they had walked a few feet down the dirt path, Skittery dragging his feet so that a cloud of dust followed them, "we went over to Brooklyn yesterday and had a little sit-down with Spot."

"Did you discover anything?" Grace asked eagerly

"Well you see, Spot's a hard one to figure out, he's really stubborn and doesn't like to give away information too easily, but yeah, we eventually got it out of him that he might know who your cousin is."

"Well that's great!" Grace said, her face lighting up as they reached the pond where

Elisabeth sat letting down the hem on one of Juliana's aprons while the little girl read out loud. Jack stood by one of the trees, eyes fixed on the sisters in front of him.

Grace tore her eyes away from this scene as Skittery finally opened his mouth, "Yeah but he wouldn't tell us nothing, wants to see you himself."

Grace looked bewildered, meeting Skittery's gray-blue eyes, "but why?"

"That's just how Spot is, don't you worry," Race said comfortingly, "he wants to see you Tuesday though, after work if you can manage it."

Grace nodded, "I guess I'll have to. Will he meet us by the factory? How will I know him?" she asked, more apprehensive than she wanted to let on.

"Don't you worry," Race said again with a laugh "you'll know him. Besides, Jack and I will be there, we never miss a visit from Brooklyn."

"Oh is that right?" Grace started to ask, but was interrupted by Race's abrupt movement as he ducked behind the large rock by which they stood.

"Cheez-it, its Harley and I passed him a bad tip on a horse and he hasn't forgotten. He'll be after my hide," he whispered "I'm sorry Miss Grace, but I have to run. Skits, look after her, I'll see you back at the lodging house."

And with those parting words, Race took off across the park, glancing backwards only to make sure that the tall, hulking form of Harley Monroe, wasn't following him.

"Is he going to be alright?" Grace asked with genuine concern in her voice.

"Yeah, of course," Skittery said, reluctant to be drawn into a conversation.

Grace smiled and unsure of what she should say to the sulky boy next to her, turned her attention to Jack who was inching closer to the blanket, as if mesmerized by the words that were being read by Juliana.

When the chapter came to a close and Juliana looked up at her sister expectantly to see if she was released to do as she pleased, Jack stepped in, crouching down next to her and reached into his pocket.

"Juliana, look what I have here," he said pulling a roll out of his jacket pocket and handing it to her, "why don't you go feed those ducks over there."

"Thanks Jack!" Juliana squealed, standing up quickly so that the book fell off her lap,

"Lissy may I?"

"I suppose, since Mr. Kelly has already gotten your hopes up," Elisabeth said without looking at the culprit, "just don't go too close to the water, and try to stay clean."

"Grace, come feed the ducks with me!" Juliana yelled, causing Elisabeth to cringe, and Grace to giggle as she went over to the child, still followed by Skittery who looked decidedly frightened by the mere presence of a child near him.

"That was very kind of you Mr. Kelly," Elisabeth said, her eyes never leaving the line of small stitches she was putting into the hem of the apron lying on her lap, "but entirely unnecessary, you really shouldn't be giving your food away."

"It's nothing miss, we get bread and water nearly every morning from the nuns of St. Stephens, and they're extra generous on Sundays."

Elisabeth nodded mutely, keeping a furtive look on Juliana, who, joined by Grace was throwing bits of bread towards the edge of the pond. Skittery, dressed in his usual frown, was skulking behind them looking uncomfortable.

"Juliana reads real good, did you teach her?" Jack asked after a few minutes of silence, picking Little Women up off the blanket and sitting down next to Elisabeth who shifted away, still maintaining a steady look at her work

Elisabeth nodded again

"Are you teaching her your prejudices too?" he asked conversationally

"Excuse me?" Elisabeth said, looking up in surprise.

"I asked if you were teaching Juliana your prejudices too," he repeated

"I do not have any prejudices, my family never even owned slaves, we didn't even live in America then," she protested, looking indignant.

"I was talking about your prejudice towards people who look the way us newsies do, and act the way we do, and talk the way we do," he said.

Elisabeth looked at him a little unsteadily, it was one thing to have Stephanie tease her about her preference of the refined over the destitute, but to have someone she didn't know hurling such accusations at her shook her.

"I do not have a prejudice toward you, and I certainly wouldn't teach Juliana to have one either, I'm just trying to raise her well," she said watching Jack flip through Little Women, unflustered and collected.

Snapping the book shut, he looked at her, "ok, then if you don't have a prejudice, prove it and meet me tonight, there's something I want to show you."

"Mister Kelly,…"

"It's Jack."

"Mister Kelly, really," Elisabeth said, looking around to make sure no one was overhearing their conversation, "I couldn't, aside from it being a work night, it wouldn't be proper."

"Why, because I'm a poor newsie?"

"No, because you're a man, and I'm an unmarried woman. My mother would faint with shock if she found out," Elisabeth countered, her sewing falling through her shaking fingers and onto her lap.

"Or because I'm a poor man and you're a prejudiced unmarried woman, that's the real problem, isn't it?"

Blushing furiously she picked up the apron and began pulling out the missed stitches she had just sloppily put in, "certainly not"

"Then come with me, I promise to have you home by ten, and I'm sure Grace will cover for you," Jack said with a convincing smile.

"Curfew is at ten, Mr. Kelly, I'll be locked out if I'm late…"

"You won't be late," Jack said, standing up and brushing the grass off his pants, along with a considerable amount of dirt and dust, as Grace neared the blanket, followed by a skipping Juliana and a still-sulking Skittery. "I'll come get you at 7, just meet me around the corner from your house," he murmured before turning to the approaching group,

"Ready to go Skits?"

"Yeah, I've been ready," he said kicking at a rock on the ground with the scuffed toe of his boot.

"Well then ladies, until next time," Jack said, sweeping the cowboy hat off his head and holding it to his chest.

"Goodbye Jack, goodbye Skittery," Grace said with a wave "thank you again for you help"

"No problem, miss," Jack said, ruffling Juliana's hair before he sauntered off, Skittery in tow.

"So what was that all about, hmm?" Grace asked, sitting down on the blanket, situating her skirt so that it fell neatly around her legs and feet.

Shaking her head, Elisabeth tore her eyes away from Jack's retreating figure and looked back to her work, a scarlet flush across her cheeks.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Keeping Secrets

"Hey Cowboy, where ya going?" Boots asked that night after they had returned from their day of selling and a meager dinner at Tibbys.

"Yeah, you got a date or something?" Blink asked, watching Jack scrub his face at the metal sink in the washroom.

Standing up from his hunched position, Jack groped blindly for one of the towels hanging nearby and wiped his face off, "none of your business," he replied "I'm just going out, is all."

"Come on Cowboy, just tell us who the girl is, we know you don't wash your face for a night in with us and Kloppy," Bumlets said while running a hand through his thick head of dark hair.

Jack looked back in the mirror wondering if he should have taken the time to wash his own (increasingly) dirty blond hair before giving himself a mental shake; he didn't want to look like he was trying too hard.

"I'll see you boys later," he said, twisting his bandana around, placing his hat on his head and brushing the outer most layer of dust off his vest as he headed for the stairs.

"Double or nothing on yesterdays bet Skits that Jack has a date tonight and he won't tell us why 'cause he's embarrassed of her!" Race called across the bunkroom, his voice reverberating into the hall.

Jack grinned, if only they knew.

* * *

Across town, Elisabeth was sitting on her bed listening to Juliana go through her speller all too aware of the minutes ticking by bringing her closer to 7 o'clock.

"Lissy…Lissy, was that right?" Juliana asked "You're supposed to be quizzing me and you aren't even paying attention."

"I'm sorry Juliana," Elisabeth said, looking up from the silk hair ribbon that she had been wrapping around her finger absent mindedly, "you're all done for the night – why don't you go down to the parlor and play with the other little girls."

"Is something wrong Lissy, do you feel sick?" Juliana asked hesitantly, she so wanted to go play downstairs but it was unusual for her sister to let her go so easily from her school work.

"No, nothings wrong," Elisabeth said despite her stomach feeling like a trolley car had parked there for the night. She forced a smile, "go on, go play."

Moving towards the door, Juliana returned the smile, but worry creased her youthful face, "you'll be down soon?"

Elisabeth nodded, and the door closed.

Taking a deep breath, Elisabeth stood up to look into the small mirror above the nightstand before removing with deft fingers the pins that kept her heavy hair in place all day, the metal digging into her scalp was giving her a headache.

The clock downstairs rang once to signal the half hour as Elisabeth started to brush her hair the requisite one-hundred times her mother always insisted upon until it fell around her shoulders in soft waves of chocolate brown.

She hadn't worn her hair down since Juliana had joined her in New York, a sub-conscious decision to differentiate their roles in each other's lives as child and caregiver. She looked painfully young to herself now and not nearly as serious as usual.

"Elisabeth?" Grace asked, knocking on the door as she opened it and stepped into the room.

Turning to look at her friend, Elisabeth set the brush back down, "Juliana said you were acting strangely, is something wrong?" Grace asked.

Biting her lip, Elisabeth contemplated telling Grace the truth but shook her head instead, "No, everything is perfectly fine."

"But you've changed your dress and hair, are you going somewhere?" Grace asked, always eager to sniff out a secret.

"Yes, of course, but just over to Milly's boarding house, her parents just sent her a new book of sewing patterns, and she said I might come over and have a look," she fibbed, knowing one of the activities Grace despised most was sewing.

"Oh, well I hope you enjoy yourself," Grace said, not fully believing her, but being able to find no fault in her story.

"I will, thank you," Elisabeth said, feeling ashamed of herself for just that morning chastising Grace for keeping a secret, but she couldn't bring herself to tell her friend where she was really going, she would never hear the end of it.

"I'm going to go tell Juliana goodnight, you'll see that she gets to bed alright?" Elisabeth requested as she twisted her hair into a simple knot at the base of her neck and secured it with a few pins before heading for the door.

"Of course…" Grace said, following Elisabeth down the stairs and waiting while she put on her hat and gloves

"I'm going out for a little while Juliana, Grace will be here if you need anything though, alright?" Elisabeth said, stroking her sister's hair affectionately before bending down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

"Night Lissy…" Juliana said as her sister fumbled with the door handle and left looking flustered.

"Something funny is going on with Lissy," Juliana observed, Grace nodded in agreement.

"Come on kid, I bet I can beat you at marbles," Grace said with one last look at the door before leading Juliana into the warm parlor, pushing her questions aside.

* * *

Once outside, Elisabeth shivered as the cool night wind swirled around her making the hem of her dress dance around her tightly laced boots. Chastising herself for being so silly to even agree to Jack's request, she realized with a start that he didn't even know where she lived and let out a sigh of relief as she turned back towards the house. Even if he searched every corner around every boarding house, it would take all night.

"Evening Miss Elisabeth," a voice said from the street behind her

Turning around she couldn't help but smile at the vision in front of her. Jack was sitting atop horse, and with his hat firmly on his head, a rope looped around his waist and a charming, yet almost nervous, look upon his face, he was quite the spectacle.

"Mr. Kelly," she said, dropping a little curtsey before approaching the horse slowly, "is she yours?"

"Neah, I borrowed her from a friend, didn't want you to have to walk too far," he said, watching appreciatively as Elisabeth pet the muzzle of the palomino, letting the friendly mare tickle her hand.

She looked up sharply, "we're going far?"

"Not too far, come on, I'll show you…do you know how to ride?" he asked

"Mr. Kelly, every well-brought up English lady knows how to ride, but you have no side saddle, or even a saddle of any sort," she pointed out

"Then I guess you better hang on," Jack said with a grin as he swung himself off the horse in order to pick her up and place her where he had been sitting before handing her the reins.

Not given the time to protest, Elisabeth looked flustered and did her best to rest both legs comfortably off the horse, making sure to keep them both properly covered, as Jack jumped on behind her astride, reaching around her to take the reins in his own hands.

With the sudden touch of his arms around her, Elisabeth felt herself stiffen immediately and couldn't seem to find the words to tell him he was being inappropriate, and instead nodded mutely to his question of whether she was ready.

Despite their awkward position, Elisabeth managed to remain seated as they made their way through the streets of the city; remembering the hours of instruction she had been given in England about posture and balance.

Jack didn't pursue a long conversation with her, and she was glad. It wasn't often she got out of the boarding house or factory without Grace and Juliana with her, and she was enjoying the sights of the city around her. She was surprised with the number of vendors who were just now packing up for the day, the activity that was still going on around them. In England, Sunday was a day of rest at her household, the lord's day, to work on anything more than needlepoint was a sin. Here, the city never stopped, never rested, it merely slowed down before picking up again for another busy day. She was fascinated.

"The city is a wonderful place, isn't it?" Jack asked

Elizabeth nodded her head primly, brought back to her senses having realized she had been gawking like a child. "Mr. Kelly, are we nearly there?" she asked.

"Just about," he replied, and true to his word a few minutes later he brought the horse to a stop and swung off, reaching up to help her down.

Grimacing at his hands around her waist, she felt her face flush involuntarily with the contact as Jack got her settled back on the ground, allowing his hands to linger a few seconds longer than was necessary.

Flustered, she looked around, "Well, where are we?" she demanded.

"Just a few steps away from the Brooklyn Bridge," he said, pointing behind her

Spinning around, she saw the great metal structure rising into the horizon, and knew she had to be close to the water because the wind had picked up and was whipping her dress and hair.

Staring at it in awe for a few moments, she turned back to Jack, "why did you bring me here?"

"I told you, I wanted to show you something," he said, "come on, we have to walk the rest of the way, I don't want the horse getting scared."

"Scared of what?" she asked, as he took the mare's reins in one hand and offered her his other arm.

Ignoring his gesture, she fell into step beside him, "suit yourself Miss, but there are far less lights the further we go," Jack said with a grin.

"And where are we going?" she asked again, a feeling of dread creeping into her already tumbling stomach

"Over, of course," Jack replied with a laugh at the look on her face, "I promise you'll be safe," he added as they reached the beginning of the bridge.

"Still sure you don't want something steady to lean on?" he asked, looking at her, half-surprised she hadn't demanded that he take her home yet.

"Quite," she said, grabbing a handful of material on her skirt to keep her hem from tripping her and taking a step forward determined to go through with whatever it was he had planned to prove him wrong about his earlier accusations despite her desperate desire to return to the safety and warmth of the boarding house.

Jack chuckled, "never have met such a stubborn girl in all my life," he mumbled under his breath, following her onto the bridge.

Making a slow path up and across the bridge, Elisabeth was deafened by the wind pulling her every which way, and blinded by her hair that was pulling free of their pins and lashing around her face, and although she didn't want Jack to see it, she smiled, thinking she had never experienced such a feeling of freedom.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Jack's Past

The bridge was deserted, and barely lit, just as Jack had predicted, but he let Elisabeth wander on ahead a few feet, remembering the first time he walked the bridge between Manhattan and Brooklyn.

He was only 11 and his mother had just taken ill with scarlet fever. His father was working two jobs to try and support them, but it just wasn't enough to pay the rent on their small Manhattan apartment and put food on the table for Jack (then Francis John, nicknamed Jack to avoid confusion from his father, Francis Sr.) and his kid sister Jillian, who was five, and almost always hungry.

Unable to stop the onslaught of memories, Jack let them come.

He loved his little sister, and it was safe to say she idolized him. When Jillian was so hungry she was on the verge of tears, he used to sing her the silly nursery rhyme about Jack and Jill who went up the hill to get a pail of water, just to keep her from thinking about her rumbling stomach. She would look up at him and laugh, easily distracted, yet still not fed.

He had cried the day he came home from school and saw her glassed over eyes, felt her clammy skin and knew that the fever was raging inside of her small frame. He didn't let his father see, his father didn't like weakness and didn't want to see it in his son. Francis Sullivan Sr. didn't like to see weakness in any of his family, and had taken to either working to avoid being in the house while his wife and daughter gave in to the sickness that overwhelmed them, or drowning his sorrows at Irving Plaza, watching Medda Larkson, the Swedish Meadow Lark, fresh off the boat from Sweden, perform her song and dance, with only a pint for company. It never dawned on him that he too was weak, too weak to care for his family the way he knew he should…or maybe he did know, Jack never could tell.

Instead, he told Jack to go out and find work, to do whatever he could to earn some money to help bring a doctor to his mother and sister. Jack had nodded mutely and run out the door.

The newsies had just begun selling their evening papers and as he ran blindly down the street, he collided with one who put him back on his feet and demanded to know what the matter was.

Jack stared at him in awe before spilling out his whole story, and then his meager breakfast, "I gotta find work fast, Mister," he had said while wiping his mouth with his tattered shirt sleeve.

"How old are you kid?" he was questioned.

"Ten…and a half," he responded tentatively, "but I'm a real hard worker, I can promise you that mister."

"Alright kid," the boy said "how about I take you under my wing for a few days until you get on your feet, we'll sell together while you learn the ropes and then you're on your own."

"The ropes of what?"

The kid laughed, "of being a newsie, jeez kid, what'd you think we were talking about? I'm Dash, the leader of the Manhattan newsies, what's your name?"

"I'm Jack…I'm uh…leader of nobody."

Dash laughed again and wrapped an arm around Jack's slim shoulders amicably, "come on, we got work to do."

A few days later Dash was bringing Jack to Brooklyn, in the past few days he had introduced him to Midtown and Queens, Dash had always said connection was everything.

"So Dash, who's the leader of the Brooklyn newsies?" Jack asked, jogging to keep up with the older boy's long strides.

"Guy by the name Knuckles, he got that name cause he's a bit rough around the edges, likes to use his fists a lot, you know?" Dash asked, anticipating the boy's next question. Jack was fascinated by the nicknames held by the newsies of New York and was waiting, with not so quiet anticipation, to be given one of his own. Dash said it couldn't be forced though, when you got a nickname it stuck, and that was it.

"You gonna sell those papers or you waiting for the birds to do it for you?" Dash asked, swinging his dwindling stack of papers up onto his narrow shoulder and sticking the other hand in his pocket to keep it warm against the March winds.

"I'm sellin' I'm sellin'" Jack said trying to imitate Dash and dropping the stack instead of successfully getting it onto his shoulder.

Dash laughed, "kid, you're a real riot."

Jack grinned as he scurried around to pick up his papers before the wind took them, being with Dash took his mind off his troubles – when he was selling his papers he almost forgot Jillian sick in bed, crying from the chills racking her body one minute and the sweats that came the next. Almost.

The thought of his baby sister came then and his head drooped noticeably, "hey, come on kid, we're nearly there," Dash said clucking him under the chin affectionately.

Jack tried to smile and tagged along behind Dash, selling with more vigor, knowing it was up to him to get the doctor, knowing he had to save Jillian, save his ma.

"So what do you think kid?" Dash asked a few minutes later as they came to the bridge that would take them to Brooklyn.

Jack stared with an open mouth, despite having grown up in New York, he was never allowed to wander this far away from his apartment and had no idea such a wonder could exist.

Dash laughed again, selling his last paper to a passerby and clapped Jack on the shoulder, "come on, let's go – give me half your papes, don't want them flying off the bridge."

Handing over more than half his stack to Dash, Jack trotted to keep up behind him as they stepped on the bridge, "Gotta walk fast or it'll be supper time before we even get there, Knuckles doesn't like to be interrupted while he's eating," he said as he continued to sell, nudging Jack to do the same.

Reaching the middle of the bridge, Dash put his hand on Jack's shoulder to stop him, bringing him over to the edge, "What are you doing Dash?" Jack asked curiously, peering out onto the water with a dazed smile on his face, he'd never seen anything like it.

"Do what I do," Dash had said, while he braced his hands on the railing and leaned over to let out a yell that was filled with the frustrations of life, the hurt, the tired, the pain, the cold, the suffering. He stepped back and nodded for Jack to do the same. "Let it out kid, ain't no better place to get rid of your worries."

Jack looked at him doubtfully, but took the extra step forward and yelled as loudly as he could until tears formed in his eyes and people walking by stopped to see what was wrong. Dash waved them along and put a hand on Jack's back, "better?"

Jack took a deep breath and nodded, somehow he did feel lighter, almost. He hadn't realized how many emotions he had bottled up inside his ten-year old body.

"Let's get to Brooklyn, eh?" Dash said, pulling Jack's small frame against his large, sturdy one in the briefest of hugs.

By the time they reached Brooklyn the majority of their papers were sold and Dash had acquired iconic status in Jack's eyes, he couldn't wait to get home again over the bridge and maybe let out another scream or two.

"I knew it had to be Manhattan coming, I could hear you bellow miles away," a rough voice said as they stepped off the bridge onto Brooklyn territory.

"Heya Knuckles, just teachin' the kid how to blow off some steam," Dash said as he spit in his hand and shook hands with the boy in front of him.

Knuckles was taller than Dash, but much thinner and wiry looking, hard as a nail and twice as tough though, Jack thought, staring up at the older boy in awe as Dash drew his attention to him.

"New recruit?" Knuckles asked as they started to walk along the harbor where the Brooklyn newsies were gathering as they finished selling their papers.

"This is Jack, he's my prodigy," Dash boasted nudging Jack in the ribs to try and rid the boy of his mouth-agape look of awe.

"Been reading the papes again Dash? Prodigy," Knuckles laughed loudly, "don't use big words you don't understand."

"Oh, you understand the term 'soak you' cause if you don't, don't make me demonstrate," Dash said as the two boys faced off for a long tense minute in which Jack stood speechless.

Dash broke first as a smile crept across his face and Knuckles laughed again before barking an order over his shoulder, "Spot! Get over here."

"My kid brother," Knuckles said as a short and scrawny boy approached from across the dock. Wrapping an arm around the frail boy's shoulders and neck Knuckles pretended to hit him square in the jaw as the boy struggled to get out of his older brother's grasp, finally kicking him in the shin and wriggling loose.

Knuckles laughed again, "This is Jack, why don't you kids go play nice while me and Dash have a talk about some business."

Spot gave his brother a dirty look, obviously displeased with the idea of having to baby-sit the kid from Manhattan who still looked a little lost and unsure of what he was doing there.

"So how long you been a newsie?" Spot asked bluntly after the two older boys had moved away.

"Um, only a few days," Jack replied hesitantly, sizing up the boy in front of him. His eyes were a cloud colored blue, he was thin like his brother but definitely sturdy, but Jack had little doubt that he could whoop him in a fight, after-all, how tough could the kid be when he got saddled with a nickname like Spot?

"Only a few days," Spot scoffed "I'm only ten and I've been a newsie with my brother there for nearly two years now. He's the best in Brooklyn, and probably in Manhattan too."

"Not better than Dash," Jack countered puffing his chest out and extending to his full height which was a few inches higher than Spot who was now doing the same.

Glancing over that the two boys who were now facing off, Dash took two long strides over to them, followed by Knuckles who slapped his brother on the back of the head, "I thought I told you to play nice."

"But he said…"

"I don't care what he said, you listen to me," Knuckles said, slapping Spot once more across the back of his head causing him to rub it and look up at his brother mournfully.

"Just wait til I run Brooklyn," Spot mumbled to himself glaring at Jack

"So what made you decide to become a newsie, kid?" Knuckles asked turning to Jack.

"My Pa said I had to get a job, to help bring a doctor home to my Ma and baby sister, they've got the fever pretty bad," Jack said, not at all oblivious to the glance that passed between Knuckles and Dash that confirmed his worst fears. "They're going to be alright though, I'm working really hard to get a doctor."

"And if they aren't ok?" Knuckles asked, ignoring the sharp look Dash gave him

Jack looked down at the papers clutched tightly in his fist at the small advertisement that had been staring up at him all day from the back of the pape, "Come work on the railroad, Santa Fe, New Mexico expanding to San Francisco, California – good pay, good hours!"

"Then I go to Santa Fe," he said thinking he could take Jillian with him and get her out of the cold New York nights in their drafty apartment.

"What's out west, you wanna be a cowboy or something?" Knuckles asked

Spot snickered loudly, "yeah cowboy, what's out west?"

Jack looked up at Dash who grinned down at him, "looks like you got your nickname."

Leaving Brooklyn that night Jack "cowboy" Sullivan stopped Dash as they reached the middle of the bridge "Dash, you think Jillian will be ok, right?" he asked earnestly.

Dash shrugged and pulled Jack close to him, "I don't know kid, I wish I could tell you."

Jack pulled free from his embrace and walked to the edge of the bridge, leaning over and screaming loudly, and the night that Jillian died he didn't stop screaming until he was out of breath and his tears choked him and Dash pried his white knuckles and clenched fingers away from the railing and carried him back to Manhattan, tucking him into a bunk in the Manhattan lodging house – he father was too drunk to realize he was missing.

Two weeks later his mother was gone too, but Jack didn't cry this time and when the bulls came to take his father into the penitentiary for breaking into a jewelry store in a last-ditch effort to get the money to bring a doctor to his dying family, Jack packed his bag and appeared on the lodging house steps where he was met by Dash who let him cry until he was empty inside and then paid his first weeks rent at the Manhattan Lodging House for Boys.

* * *

Lost in his thoughts, Jack walked past Elisabeth who had stopped at the middle of the bridge in order to take her first look at the lit up horizon of the city from a near birds-eye view. Her hair had fully escaped its restraints and was flying around her hectically but she didn't seem to mind. She too seemed lost in thought. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – Friends

Chapter 7 – Friends

"So what do you think?" Jack asked her

She looked over at him and then back out to the city, still alight with activity, "it's beautiful," she said simply.

"This is my favorite place in the whole City of New York," Jack said leaning against the railing and reached into his pocket, "mind if I smoke?" he asked, pulling out half a cigarette.

Elisabeth shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the view in front of her, "do you come here often?"

"As often as I can," Jack said inhaling deeply before continuing, "but the life of a newsie is no picnic, I don't get much free time to do as I please."

"Don't tell me about getting old before your time," Elisabeth thought looking down at her hands which were gripping the side of the bridge. They weren't hands that belonged to a lady, not anymore. Just that morning she had counted six scars scattered across her hands, "marks of the machine, of the modern age," she thought scornfully. Despite the number of years that had passed, she still had trouble reconciling herself to the fact that she needed to work for a living. And then there was Juliana to raise and to teach and to mother, "to mother indeed," Elisabeth thought, "at this rate she'll be the only child I have, and she isn't even mine even if I do have to take care of her like she is."

Guilt racked her heart and mind at times when she thought like this, but she couldn't help it when she thought of how her life might have been. She had been betrothed from her birth, promised to be married to Bartholomew William Prescott, the eldest son of one of her father's wealthy friends in England. Their parents had grand plans for the uniting of two of the richest families in their small town in England, but Elisabeth and Bart – as he had been christened at an early age – were never mindful of it. He was four years her elder and sent away to boarding school when he was twelve and she eight. He still thought her a pest back then and was much better friends with her older brother Charles who went to school with him as well.

Still, she thought, there had been that summer, right before her father moved them to America to pursue the phosphate mines (a move that was supposed to be temporary, Elisabeth reminded herself bitterly), she had just turned thirteen and had been out riding when she came back to the stables to find Charles and Bart examining the horses. Sitting sidesaddle in her emerald green riding habit, she had dropped her riding crop in surprise,

"Charles, you're home early!"

He had laughed making his green eyes sparkle merrily, "and a fine greeting you gave me too being gone half the day," he said as he approached her horse giving it a gentle pat.

"Oh you are a mean brother," she had said, a smile on her face, "you didn't even send word that you would be coming home today, or you know I wouldn't have gone off riding, I was only with Lydia and you know I hardly even like her."

Reaching up he swung her off the horse and placed her firmly back on the ground, "let's call a truce shall we? Being the heathen that you are, you haven't even said hello to Bart yet."

She had felt her face flush immediately, but she tried to remain dignified. For the first time she was painfully aware that one day she would be his wife, and he her husband. On her thirteenth birthday that year, her mother had come into her room and closed the door. And then for nearly an hour she had explained to her exactly what was expected of a woman, and of a wife. She had tried her best to listen and understand, to realize what her body was already telling her, that she was a woman now.

Standing in the barn, she knew she looked different than she had when Bart had seen her last. Her body was developing rapidly, she was taller and filling out, and just recently her dresses had to be let out ever so slightly in the bust.

"Hello Bart, I'm very glad to see you," she said looking up at the impressive figure that he cut. He was tall for seventeen with dark brown hair and hazel eyes that twinkled mischievously. His clothes were well-tailored and he had an ease about him that showed in his smile.

"Hello Elisabeth," he said picking up her hand and dropping a kiss on it, but instead of letting her go, he continued to grasp her fingers lightly.

Looking over her shoulder she saw that Charles was busying himself with her horse and when she looked back at Bart, she felt her stomach roll from the way he was looking at her.

"You look different," he said with a slight smile, "I wouldn't know that it was only a year since I've seen you last."

"Why thank you Bart, I do hope you'll join us for tea?" she had said, trying her best to be the dignified lady her mother was trying to bring her up to be. It simply wouldn't do to let Bart keep holding her hand, even if he was her betrothed. Imagine what the stable boy would think, and servants were all alike, they all talked. Her reputation could be ruined in a minute.

"Bart has to be getting home, he has his own family to see," Charles said re-entering the conversation after delivering the horse to the stable boy.

"Come now Charlie, I can stay for one cup of tea, it isn't polite to say no to such a pretty girl."

That time she couldn't hide her blush.

That hadn't been the last time she had seen him. The summer had passed in a whirlwind of parties and balls, picnics and horseback rides until she and her family were lined up at the harbor, waiting to get on the boat that would take them to America. Bart and his family had come to bid them farewell. Their goodbye had been quick, he wished her a safe voyage and then quick as lightening kissed her on the cheek.

When she boarded the boat a few minutes later she could still feel his lips on her skin, her excitement for America dinned, she knew she still had years to go before she was old enough to marry, but already she didn't want to leave his side.

"It's only until next summer," Charles had said coming up beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Except it wasn't until next summer. Before they'd even made it off the boat from the long journey between England and America her father's investment had proven unsturdy, and they arrived in America as paupers, the government haven taken everything to pay his debts. She was working at the factory within a few months, and she had never heard from Bart again. She knew Charles still wrote occasionally, but she couldn't bring herself to ask the questions she so desperately wanted to know. Her father released him from their betrothal, with no dowry to provide and no wealth to back them, there was no way his father would allow the match.

"He's probably married by now," Elisabeth thought staring out at the City, "and I'll never get back to England, not as long as Papa is determined to make back his money here."

"Are you okay?"

The question started her, "I'm sorry Mr. Kelly, I just let my mind wander off," she said trying to regain her composure and prevent the flood of tears that were threatening to fall from doing so.

"It is a good thinking spot," he agreed amicably, "but I brought you here for another reason too."

"Mr. Kelly, I really need to be getting back," she said, unable to bring herself to look at him for fear that he would see her unshed tears.

"It'll only take a minute, and I promise it will make you feel better about whatever it is that's bothering you."

"Well what is it?" she asked impatiently

He smirked, "yell"

"Excuse me?"

"Yell, just go ahead and scream, right off the bridge, so loud the whole City can hear you, and Brooklyn too," he said turning to look at her

"Mr. Kelly…"

"Let me guess," he said cutting her off, "ladies don't yell."

She blushed and gripped the railing harder looking out onto the water, "yell?"

He nodded, and she took a deep breath letting out a soft yell that was lost in the wind

"No good, you gotta get it all out of you, reach down deep and just scream, let it out," he said, and by way of demonstration, he leaned over and let out a cry that sounded as if it came from the very core of his body.

She had never screamed like that, had never so much had raised her voice beyond that of a respectable lady, and why? She asked herself. It wasn't as if she was or as though she needed to be the well-brought up lady her mother taught her to be. Here she was, in a dirty city, standing on a bridge at night, without an escort (oh how her mother would cringe at the knowledge), with a newsboy, for goodness sake.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, her body seemed bent on doing both, so she gripped the railing tighter and screamed as loudly as she could, screaming for her lost youth, for her father working himself to the bone, for her mother, and Charles, and for Juliana working in a factory instead of going to school and riding ponies; and when she ran out of breath, she drew another and screamed again not even realizing she had, until she felt Jack's hand on her arm and realized she was crying.

And then he was hugging her, and although she longed to protest, she had forgotten the feeling of a man's hug, and instead of fighting she rested her cheek on his shoulder as her tears dried, feeling for the first time in years the sense of protection that can only come when someone is taking care of you.

"Mr. Kelly," she said finally, hating the way her voice trembled ever so slightly, "I...well I really do need to be going," she said, taking a few steps back, suddenly painfully aware of her wrinkled dress, messy hair and tear-stained face.

He nodded and picked up the horse's reins, clucking to it softly until it started to walk. Offering her his other arm, she smiled sheepishly and accepted, remaining quiet until they had reached the street.

Away from the wind, she dug in her pocket looking for a few pins to try and put her hair back in order and her hat back in place finally finding a few. "Oh, I can't imagine what the girls are going to say when they see me in this state," she fretted, trying to coerce her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck.

"If you need a place to straighten up a little, I could take you to the lodging house, there's a washroom there you could use," Jack offered.

"Oh no…I couldn't," she said

"It's just a few blocks away if it's the time that you're worried about."

"No, Mr. Kelly, it just…well it really wouldn't be proper, it'll be so late when I get back, most of the girls will have gone to bed, I'll just sneak in and maybe no one will notice."

He nodded and waited until she had stopped fumbling with her hair before helping her back up onto the horse and following suite.

The ride back was mostly silent, Elisabeth felt shamed with the way she had acted, crying in front of a near stranger and allowing him to hug her, and on the street no less. Still, she reasoned again, it wasn't like she was promised to anyone, and her mother hadn't been there to see it, and as much as she was loathe to admit it, she was a factory girl, and factory girls didn't need to act with the poise and decorum which had been ingrained in her since birth. All reasoning aside, she was dreading mass that Wednesday, she was going to have to confess her sins even if she did rationalize them to herself.

When he dropped her off at the corner of her street, she didn't cringe as his hands circled her waist and placed her securely on the ground, and after making sure that no one was around to witness it, she placed her hand in his and said, "thank you Jack, for everything."

He raised an eyebrow, "no more Mr. Kelly?"

"No," Elisabeth said with a smile, "we're friends now, aren't we?"

"Yes, and I'm glad of it, I was beginning to feel like my father with you calling me Mr. all the time," he said reaching behind his neck in order to pull his cowboy hat onto his head.

Trying not to dwell on just how brown his eyes were, or how pleasing his smile was, Elisabeth picked up her skirt to keep it from dragging in the dirt and turned towards her boarding house, "goodnight Jack".

"Goodnight Elisabeth," he returned, watching as she climbed the stairs to the house.

She turned for one last look, her hand on the doorknob, and from down the street, she could hear him laughing.


End file.
